


Life As We Know It

by lhknox



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Baby Fic, F/F, Family, Romance, this will probably be sad a lot so i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-21 05:57:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9534743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lhknox/pseuds/lhknox
Summary: "She knows, somehow. She knows that this is the moment everything changes, this is the moment that propels her into uncertainty and fear."When her sister dies, Maggie must decide if she wants to raise the niece she never knew she had.(Based so very very loosely on the movie Life As We Know It)





	1. Change

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I never thought I'd be writing a Sanvers baby fic (because tbh I don't think they'd ever choose to become parents) but here we are. 
> 
> This is something I'd really love any and all feedback for - I haven't written a multi-chapter fic in a hecka long time, nor have I ever written a baby fic.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy.

Some moments have the potential to change the course of a life in a heartbeat.

 

For Maggie Sawyer, that moment comes on a Saturday morning, in the form of a phone call. She knows it’s bad news, because it comes much too early to be anything else. She had been looking forward to a sleep-in with her girlfriend of a year and a half; between both of their careers there wasn’t much downtime, so when a lazy morning came around both Maggie and Alex revelled in it.

 

Alex groans as the phone rings, burrowing her head under her pillow, and giving a muffled “shut that off before I murder you”. Maggie blindly reaches for her phone, pawing around the bedside table before finding it. She squints at the bright screen, frowning at the unknown number that flashes.

 

“Sawyer,” she answers with a yawn. She listens half-asleep to the voice on the other end, not truly comprehending what they say. “Could you repeat that, please?” she says, this time more alert, sitting up in the bed. As the words seep in fully this time, Maggie feels everything. She feels her stomach drop and her blood run cold and her heart clench in her chest. She knows, somehow. She knows that this is the moment everything changes, this is the moment that propels her into uncertainty and fear.

 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Maggie says as she ends the call. She gets up from the bed and slams the light on, ignoring Alex’s moans of protest. She pulls a duffle bag from under the bed, and flits between the closet and her drawers and the bag, packing it haphazardly, moving as fast as she possibly can.

 

“Mags?” Alex says, finally pulling her head out from under the pillow. Maggie doesn’t respond, her energy focused on solely on packing in an effort to not break down completely. “Maggie, what are you doing?” Alex scrambles to get out of the bed, before moving to hold Maggie by the shoulders, stopping her mid-stride.

 

“I, um, I have to get to Blue Springs,” Maggie says, her voice not quite breaking. “There was an accident, and uh, I have to go because Carmen… they don’t know if she’ll make it, and-” Alex pulls her into a hug, trying to alleviate any of the pain Maggie feels. Maggie refuses to let any tears fall, she refuses to fall apart just yet because for now, her little sister needs her. She breaks away from Alex’s embrace, pulling her passport from her underwear drawer, shoving it into the top of the duffle bag. Maggie’s heart soars momentarily as Alex begins to pack a bag of her own, and she’s grateful that her girlfriend is kind and thoughtful and knows that Maggie needs her by her side.

 

Before she knows it she’s waiting at an airport gate, and Alex walks towards her, two coffees in hand.

 

“I called your captain and explained everything, so you don’t have to worry about anything work related,” Alex tells her in a soothing voice, handing her a coffee.

 

“And you?” Maggie asks, trying not to sound too desperate and failing miserably. She needs Alex with her to get through whatever the next few days bring. She can’t face her hometown, her sister - everything she left behind - she can’t face it without Alex.

 

“I’ve messaged J’onn, so I’m here for as long as you need,” she says, and Maggie lets out a shaky sigh of relief, reaching out for Alex’s hand.

 

“It’ll be okay,” Alex tells her, “it’ll all be fine.”

 

And for the first time ever, Maggie doesn’t believe a word her girlfriend says.

 

///

 

Despite her background in medicine, Alex Danvers detests hospitals.

 

Hospitals flow with pain, waiting to engulf you as soon as those automatic doors open. As soon as the smell of hospital hits her nose, all Alex can think of is the pain of her six-year-old self’s broken arm, the panic brought on by her mother’s ruptured appendix, the unfathomable ache after being told that her grandmother had died.

 

And still, Alex strides into the hospital pulling Maggie by the hand, knowing that she has to be strong and ignore the pain she may feel. Because whatever she feels, Maggie is feeling it tenfold, barely managing to keep herself afloat. Alex can’t even imagine what her girlfriend is going through, how being back in the place that rejected her so long ago is affecting her.

 

Despite what Maggie first told Alex all those years ago, Mr and Mrs Sawyer were not accepting of their daughter’s sexuality, not in the slightest. They cut her off from her only friends (quite a feat in a town of less-than-five-hundred. They monitored her every move, everything she did. They made her have one-on-one counselling sessions with the local pastor. Maggie was a small town anomaly, a pariah, a misfit. She was a walking target for bullies and bigots alike. So when she managed to get a full ride scholarship to a school as far away as she could get, Maggie left Blue Springs and never looked back. She hadn’t returned for Carmen’s graduation. She hadn’t returned for her father’s funeral when she was twenty, nor for her mother’s just three years later. She spoke to her sister on the phone once a year on Christmas day, and that was it. That was enough.

 

So when they approach the front desk and a nurse asks how she can help them, Alex doesn’t flinch when Maggie’s hand drops from her own, and she doesn’t hesitate before speaking.

 

“We’re here to see Carmen Sawyer, and this is her sister Maggie; you phoned earlier in the morning.”

 

“Of course, I’ll page the doctor right away,” the nurse promises, and Alex thanks her, not missing the look of pity she throws Maggie. The small seed of dread that had been planted with the phone call firmly takes root in Alex’s being. And when the doctor appears and escorts them to a meeting room rather than a recovery room, the seed sprouts and its weeds wrap around Alex, closing in around her, making it hard to breathe. She doesn’t dare look at Maggie, who keeps her eyes trained on the table in front of her.

 

“Ms. Sawyer, I’m very sorry, but your sister’s injuries were far too extensive…” Whatever the doctor says next is white noise to Alex. She feels as though the earth has been pulled out from underneath her, she feels Maggie try to blindly find her hand. Alex doesn’t know how to do this, how to comfort the woman she loves as she faces Alex’s biggest fear: losing her sister. She doesn’t know how much Maggie is retaining of what the doctor says, but her own mind races ahead to the necessary steps they’ll need to take to plan Carmen’s funeral. Alex thinks how weird it’ll be to mourn somebody she’s never met, somebody so important to the love of her life. She wonders how Maggie will handle seeing family members and familiar faces from her past as she mourns her sister.

 

And then the doctor says something that makes both Alex and Maggie’s heads whip up in unison.

 

“Now, I’m sure you’re concerned about your niece, but don’t worry. She wasn’t in the accident, and has been in the hospital nursery, so you can collect her at any time.”

 

“Niece?” Maggie asks, her teary eyes focused, filled with confusion. If Alex felt winded before, now she feels as though she’s been thrown from the top floor of the DEO headquarters, blindsided and weightless and tumbling to the ground all too fast. Alex can feel her whole body, her heart beating wildly in her chest, the weeds that had been wrapped around her squeezing the life out of her, closed around her throat and not letting her breathe at all.

 

“Carmen’s daughter, Emilia,” the doctor confirms.

 

Despite the panic she feels, despite the fear and the shock, Alex keeps her face stoic and calm. She squeezes Maggie’s hand, and makes sure that her girlfriend looks into her eyes as she speaks.

 

“Well then we better go get her.”


	2. I Was A Broken Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Emilia deserves better. She deserves devotion and love and someone who can be a parent, something Maggie is adamant she can’t do."
> 
> Maggie and Alex discuss their future with Emilia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, and also advanced sorry for what I assume will be another long break between this and the next one lol. Unbeta'd and probably trash, but enjoy! 
> 
> (as always if you like leaving prompts, come find me on tumblr at murdershegoat - i've had a few sent to me and they're super fun and chill)

Alex isn’t sure if she’s woken by the pale moonlight that floods the room, or the cold gust of wind from the open window. All she knows is that she’s alone in bed, Maggie nowhere to be seen.

 

She finds her in the nursery, nursing a scotch and watching Emilia sleep, the steady rise and fall of the baby’s chest the only movement in the room. Alex pads over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, stirring Maggie from the hypnotic hold Emilia has over her.

 

“You okay, babe?” Maggie doesn’t answer. Instead she takes a sip of her drink, the hard burn of the liquor a welcome distraction from the ache deep in her chest.

 

“I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in this house since I was fourteen,” Maggie whispers into the darkness. Alex drops down to her knees beside Maggie, making sure she can see her girlfriend’s face as she talks. “I was always afraid, from the moment I came out to them.” Her breathing becomes shallow, and a sob rips from her chest. Even in the darkness, Alex can see the tears that glisten in Maggie’s eyes, pools of memory that still quietly haunt her.

 

“I envy her, Alex,” Maggie admits, “I envy an infant because she feels safe here, and I never did.” 

 

“That’s okay, Maggie. You’re okay.”

 

“No, I’m not,” she groans, “I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.” Alex’s heart almost breaks entirely at Maggie’s desperate plea.

 

“I can’t tell you what to do here, Maggie. This is a decision you have to make.”

 

“But this…  _ she _ … Emilia affects you, too.” 

 

For a microsecond, Alex hesitates. She hesitates because she never  _ did  _ want kids. Not when she was seven and her friends played with baby dolls, not when they were in high school and would compile lists of names they’d name their children one day. Kids had never been a consideration. But telling Maggie that… she couldn’t tell Maggie that. 

 

“I will support you in any decision you make. I love you, more than anything, and nothing’s gonna change that.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“I swear.” Maggie buries her head in her hands, and Alex leans forward, embracing her as best she can.

 

“I can’t take her, I can’t do it. She needs good parents.”

 

Alex wants to tell Maggie that she would be a good parent, that she would be everything Emilia needs because she is smart and strong and filled with love. But Alex can’t tell Maggie that, because it’s not Maggie’s parenting skills she’s worried about. Because she’s too busy feeling the guilt of pleasure trickle over her.

 

“You, Maggie Sawyer, are the strongest person I know. And Emilia will be brought up close to her mom, and knowing you, and visiting us in National City. You don’t need to raise her to be in her life.”

 

“I feel… I feel like if I’m letting everybody down, my parents, my sister… but…”

 

“You’re not letting anybody down, Maggie. Now, come back to bed. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”

 

Maggie lets Alex lead her back to bed, softly shutting the nursery door behind them. And despite the guilt and the fear and the anxiety over the coming day, Maggie sleeps soundly for a few more hours in Alex’s light embrace.

 

///

 

She wakes to the smell of burning toast and the wails of a crying infant.

 

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Maggie stumbles into the kitchen, feeling as though she were entering an alternate universe. It takes her a few moments to properly take in the scene before her: Alex scurrying about, pulling black crisps from the toaster while making sure whatever’s on the stove isn’t also burning; Emilia crying loudly from her high chair, hot angry tears running down her chubby cheeks.

 

“It’s okay, Emilia, honey. It’s okay,” Alex calls out over the sizzling of the pan. “I’ll be there in a second.”

 

Maggie enters the kitchen and scoops Emilia up into her arms, the infant nuzzling into her chest immediately. Her cries turn into soft shudders, and Maggie whispers small comforts into her ear. She walks over to Alex and kisses her good morning. It hurts, how natural it all feels. Pain radiates from deep within Maggie’s chest - how comfortable Emilia is in her arms, how effortless it all seems, the sheer domesticity of the picture. The guilt that had dissipated with sleep picks up once more, making Maggie feel uneasy.

 

“I’m sorry we woke you up, I just wanted to make you breakfast so you could relax and not worry,” Alex rambles, and Maggie just smiles, kissing her once more.

 

“It’s fine, babe, honestly.” Alex smiles down at Emilia who sniffles and turns away from her. Maggie laughs softly. 

 

“Well isn’t this a domestic sight,” comes a voice from behind them, and Maggie whirls around so fast she startles Emilia who starts crying once more. Kara stands at the back door, hair windswept and glasses slightly askew. 

 

“Kara! What’re you doing here?” Alex asks, rushing forward to give her sister a hug. Maggie follows suit, and Kara frowns at the still crying baby. Emilia looks up at her through her tears, her grip on Maggie growing tighter.

 

“You didn’t need to come, Little Danvers.”

 

“You’re family, Maggie,” Kara says simply, and Maggie’s eyes well with tears, touched by Kara’s gesture. 

 

“Sorry, I, uh-” Maggie hands Emilia over to Alex, ignoring the baby’s cries of protest, and retreats to the bedroom.

 

“She’s not doing very well, is she?” Kara asks, and Alex just shakes her head, desperately bouncing the now-hysterical baby. Kara sighs, and holds out her hands. Alex hands over Emilia with a small ‘thank god’.

 

Emilia quietens almost straight away in Kara’s arms, safe and comfortable in her embrace. Kara coos at her, trying to coax out a smile. She grins triumphantly at Alex when she succeeds.

 

“She likes you,” Alex says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She isn’t sure why she feels jealous, but she pushes the feeling down, too worried about Maggie to focus on anything else. Before Alex can voice her concerns to Kara, Maggie reenters the kitchen, her eyes rimmed with red. She walks over to Kara wordlessly, and throws her arms around her. The hug is awkward - Kara’s holding the baby, and Maggie’s a lot shorter than her - but they stand in the embrace for longer than necessary; Maggie hopes that she conveys her gratitude, and judging by the way Kara throws a strong, protective arm around her, Maggie thinks she got the message across.

 

“We better start getting ready, love,” Alex says quietly, “we’re meeting your family at the church in a couple of hours.”

 

“You guys go,” Kara says straight away, “I’ll keep this little one occupied.” Emilia fiddles with the front of Kara’s shirt, and Alex throws her a quick ‘thanks’, making a mental note to tell her sister how amazing she is later on.

 

When they’re alone in the bedroom, Alex pulls Maggie into a hug, holding her as close as she possibly can, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

 

“What’s this for?”

 

“I really love you, Maggie.”

 

“I love you, too, Alex.”

 

“And if at any time today you need me for anything, you just let me know. Okay?” Maggie smiles softly into Alex’s neck.

 

“Okay,” she murmurs. “Promise.”

 

When they emerge from the bedroom twenty minutes later, in dresses deemed appropriate for grieving, they see Emilia shriek with laughter as she floats around the room in Kara’s arms, just a few feet off the ground.

 

Maggie ignores the same sense of ease and familiarity that rears its head once more. She ignores how Emilia is clearly in love with Kara, how Alex smiles at the pair from the doorway, her hand finding Maggie’s. She hates the feeling because she knows she can’t handle a baby. She’s a detective who works crazy hours and her girlfriend is a secret agent. She doesn’t have the time, and Emilia deserves better. She deserves devotion and love and someone who can be a parent, something Maggie is adamant she can’t do. She’s always been told how hard headed she is, by most of her old girlfriends, and she vividly remembers her parents calling her incapable of loving someone other than herself. And maybe she’s growing, maybe she’s changing, but to inflict that on Emilia is just unfair. 

 

_ So it’s decided _ , she thinks to herself,  _ she’ll stay here. _

 

She pretends that the thought alone doesn’t make her uneasy.

 

///

 

It doesn’t take long for her to remember why she hates her home town so wholeheartedly.

 

The whispers and stares start the moment she walks into the church, and it’s only her extended family. Maggie holds onto Alex’s hand for dear life, unable and unwilling to face her past without her love by her side. Her cousins eye her warily, and Maggie refuses to even look at her Uncle Bobby, a hateful and spiteful man. Her Aunt Hattie steps forward and pulls Maggie in for a too-tight hug.

 

“Oh, Margarida, such tragedy. Such tragedy.” the older woman says, and Maggie resists the urge to roll her eyes at her dramatics. 

 

“Hi Auntie, it’s nice to see you.” Hattie clicks her tongue.

 

“No it’s not. It’s been too long,” she peers behind Maggie and stares at the Danvers sisters. “And these people?”

 

“This is my girlfriend, Alex, and her sister, Kara.” Alex smiles shyly, and Kara flashes a thousand-watt one, Emilia held close to her chest. 

 

“Ah, so you’re still… so inclined.” The smile drops from Kara’s face in an instant, and she steps forward, trying to put herself between Maggie and Hattie.

 

“Excuse me, but Maggie is a smart, kind-”

 

“Kara, not now,” Alex says, cutting her off and pulling her back. Maggie feels the heat rise in her face, and the shame in her heart. She wills herself not to cry in front of these people, not to show weakness or fault or anything. She schools her features, and takes a shaky breath.

 

“Not today, Hattie. I won’t do this today.” Hattie smiles, and Maggie wants to hit her. Instead, she walks away from her, and greets her cousins.

 

“Hey Derek,” she says coolly, and he gives her a quick hug.

 

“Mags,” he gestures to the woman and child beside him, “this is my wife, Sonia, and our son Tate.” Maggie makes small talk with her family, thinking that if she left Emilia with Hattie, at least the girl would have cousins to play with as she grows. She moves about, from cousin to cousin, from relative to relative, making the world’s most awkward small talk and catching up on all the years they’d been apart. All the while, Maggie ignores the closed casket in the front of the room, unwilling to face it just yet.

 

Slowly but surely, more people enter the small church, and Maggie is forced to stand at the front of the room. She recognises faces from her high school days, faces old and weathered, still filled with the small-town judgement that she had so desperately escaped. Holding Emilia in her arms grounds her, as she listens to the faux-condolences the people give her, their words going in one ear and out the other. She’s grateful to have Alex by her side, a calming presence, and Kara just off to the side, ready to help at a moment’s notice.

 

Before she knows it the priest is calling her up to give her eulogy, and Maggie can feel her heart in her throat.

 

“Carmen was… she was a kind soul. Honest, and hardworking, and always willing to love. To be honest with you, I didn’t know my sister so well. I was driven from this town at a young age-” she ignores the ‘tsk’ she knows comes from Aunt Hattie. “- and I never really came back. I found my home elsewhere, with other people. But Carmen… no matter the distance, or the time apart, or the tragedies that struck our family, Carmen was resilient, and bright, and I’ll miss her very much.” 

 

Maggie takes her seat quietly, and looks at Emilia, sitting in Kara’s lap. Carmen’s eyes stare back up at her, and for what feels like the first time, Maggie cries over the death of her sister.

 

///

 

The wake is small and crowded, Hattie having insisted on organizing it.

 

Maggie weaves through the people, Emilia freshly changed and in her arms, and stops just short of the kitchen, pausing for a moment to look at an old family photo.

 

“She can’t do it,” she hears Derek say, “she’s flaky and unreliable, and would be terrible with children.”

 

“Agreed,” she hears another cousin answer, “not to mention, the kid’ll be screwed up. An absent faux-mom, and a… what was it the girlfriend does?”

 

“Medicine something or other. Yeah, the kid has no chance. Two moms is the least of it’s problems, and that’s saying something.”

 

Maggie sees red. She hurries off away from her cousins, away from the hatred they were spewing, and finds Alex sitting on the couch. Kara appears a millisecond later, and judging  by the look on her face, she’d heard what Derek had said.

 

“We can’t leave her here,” Maggie breathes, and Alex watches her with wide eyes. “These people are horrible people and we can’t leave her with them. We can’t leave her behind. I-”  _ I can’t leave someone else behind. _

 

She waits for Alex to respond, but a response doesn’t come.

 

“Alex, please. Say something.” Alex takes a deep breath.

 

“I told you, I’m in this and willing. We can do this, we’ll figure it out.” Maggie leans forward and presses a quick kiss to her girlfriend’s lips, and they’re interrupted, Hattie clearing her throat to get their attention.

 

“Margarida, I’ve been discussing it with your Uncle Bobby, and we think… we think it might be best for everyone if Emilia stays here in Blue Springs. You work very hard, and you don’t need the distraction.”

 

“No,” Maggie responds, firm and clear. “No, I’m her next of kin, and I’ll be the one taking care of her.”

 

“Think about it, Marg-”

 

“I  _ have _ thought about it. And I will not allow my niece to be raised in the same harmful environment I was.”

 

“Oh, please. You were always so dramatic.”

 

“And you were always an unwelcoming, close-minded, buffoon of a woman who made staying away all these years very easy.” Hattie draws herself up in a huff, staring her niece down.

 

“Don’t pretend like you care about our family. You were never here for Carmen, ever. You didn’t even know she had a child, for Christ’s sake.”

 

“But I’m here now,” Maggie says softly. “I’m here now, and Emilia is legally mine. Now if you’ll excuse me, my family and I will be leaving.”

 

Maggie stands from the couch, pulling Alex with her, and and making sure Kara was also by her side, before escorting them out of the house and to the car. 

 

///

 

Kara flies ahead of them, planning on getting back to National City and buying supplies for their newest family member. Alex and Maggie stay in Blue Springs for a few more days, packing up her parents’ and Carmen’s house and tying up loose ends, shipping anything sentimental back to the city and throwing out the rest.

 

It doesn’t hit her while they’re packing, and Emilia sits in her bouncer playing.

 

It doesn’t hit her when they’re on the plane, and an exhausted Emilia sleeps soundly on her lap.

 

It doesn’t even hit her when a stranger at baggage claim tells her how cute her daughter is (Maggie is quick to correct her, anyway.)

 

No, it only hits Maggie when they stand, the three of them, in the middle of Alex and Maggie’s apartment. A welcome home banner hangs across the wall, courtesy of Kara, and the spare room has been converted into a nursery in record time. Emilia struggles to get out of the baby capsule she’s in, and Alex helps her out of it, sighing softly when she reaches for Maggie instead.

 

"We'll be fine," Alex says, as much to herself as it is to Maggie, "We can do this."

 

They stand there, the three of them - Emilia in her arms, and Alex’s hand in hers - and she thinks, hopes, that maybe one day they'll be a family.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr @murdershegoat i promise i'm friendly leave me prompts and stuff


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